


A Niffler's Intuition

by belovedbey



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Smitten Original Percival Graves, This is my new year's present to everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 18:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedbey/pseuds/belovedbey
Summary: Newt's Niffler starts acting a bit odd and he sets out to find why.





	A Niffler's Intuition

“There you go,” Newt Scamander said, tone cheerful as he supplied the tree with fresh lice. “Want to join them?” He asked the lone Bowtruckle that peeked its tiny head out of his shirt pocket to peer at his kin. He knew the answer would be a no, but he tried every time they came to the tree to feed them nonetheless. Proving his intuition, Pickett shook his head and hunkered back down into his safe place, finding comfort in the steady beat of his Mum’s heart and being surrounded by the warm fabric. Sighing half-heartedly, Newt went to move onto the next habitat—the nest of Occamy hatchlings that were ready for their own feeding—when the feeling of his leg being grasped led him to look down and find his Niffler with all four of its limbs wrapped around his shin, beady eyes peering up at him. “What do you think you’re doing? You haven’t stolen anything, right?”

All he got in response were a few innocent bats of the Niffler’s eyes. “Right.” Not finding anything distracting about the Niffler being there, he continued in his errands of caring for every single thing in his suitcase from the Erumpents to the Graphorns, and the Mooncalves to the Nundu, and so on until he was sure he wasn’t needed anymore. Of course, his creatures all held a special love for their caretaker, but the man himself refused to believe that he could hold such a high position in their eyes. He did the same thing with humans, severely underestimating himself, and his husband found this to be very wrong of him, so he loved to praise Newt as much he could without making the redhead uncomfortable, and he loved to whisper sweet nothings into his ear about how incredible of a human being he was.

Stepping back up into his shed with a relieved sigh, he set the metal buckets in his hands down next to the door with a clang and brought his full attention to the Niffler who was still attached to his leg. “Do you want something?” He asked as if it could respond, sitting himself down on the stairs so that he faced out into the magical expanse of his suitcase while running a hand over its black fur. Snout twitching, the creature scurried up the rest of his long leg and across his lap. Curious, Newt watched as the Niffler met the hem of his dress shirt and scuttled up under it, curling up next to his stomach. “Are you cold? Are you sick?” Newt asked, quickly becoming worried at the odd behaviour enough to quickly stand, holding his hand beneath the lump under his shirt so it wouldn’t fall out as he hurried to his work desk. Reaching up the bottom of his shirt, he brought the Niffler out and placed it on the table, preventing it in its attempt of getting back under before bringing his wand out from his front pocket to cast a bunch of diagnosing charms he’d learned through his years of practise to try and figure out if his creature had any sort of ailment. 

When everything came back negative, he was relieved but still confused as the Niffler still seemed intent on getting back to where it was, pushing its little snout at his waist. “All right, but I don’t know what you want under there. Hold on a moment.” Moving to the other side of the table, the Niffler pawed its way after him, jumping over the piles of papers and books that littered the surface as if it were some obstacle course. Sifting through one of the piles, he drew a black leather-bound book from the bottom of one, the title advertising it as a complete guide to Nifflers, and brushed off the dust that had begun to settle on it. Hopping atop the book before he could lift it, the Niffler ran up his arm at an impressive speed and jumped up to the top of his head. Nuzzling under the auburn hair, he curled around himself and settled down contentedly. “You’ve never been this smitten with me before,” the man mused, trying to keep his head as straight as possible so the creature wouldn’t slide off.

Tucking the book against his side with his elbow, he checked to make Pickett was still okay before ascending the ladder that led out of his suitcase, nearly falling when he had to use his only free arm to push the top open but remaining stable after shooting his hand back around one of the rungs. Exhaling with relief, he remained halfway up the ladder for a moment before emerging into his bedroom that he shared with Percival. He could remember his then-boss’ confession to him one day at work and he’d been completely taken aback, although the rest of the workers in the Department, including Tina, seemed rather relieved. Newt had been scratched in the face by a particular creature involved with one of their cases and he hadn’t even noticed his injury as he was completely involved in helping the scared animal, so when he casually strolled into Director Graves’ office to report on the creature, he was confused when the man shot up from his position behind his desk and zipped to stand in front of him. 

Madam President and the team sent on the mission watched as the Director fussed like a mother bird over Newt. “Why didn’t you heal yourself right away?!” He asked frantically, bringing his hand up to Newt’s face. The magizoologist didn’t even realise what was wrong until he saw the red on the tips of the man’s fingers when he retreated his hand. 

“Oh! I d-didn’t even realise,” he stuttered, fumbling around his jacket until he retrieved his wand from the inside pocket and cast a quick healing charm along with a scourgify to remove the blood from his face. Averting his eyes from the man’s face, he thought the Director would have withdrawn himself after, but two large hands cupped his face and ran over the skin that had just been broken open. “I’m o-okay, Dir-” His words were swallowed by the man covering his mouth with his own and a strong pair of arms encircling his torso. The last thing he registered was the chorus of gasps from the left side of the room before he lost himself in the man, eyes closing and arms coming around the other man in return. They would’ve continued if it weren’t for the clearing of Madam President’s throat, causing Newt to return to his senses and break the kiss, head turned down as his face flamed. “What… I don’t…” 

“I’ve been trying to ask you out for the past month.” The man’s words confused Newt.

“What? I… I thought that you’ve been just nice with me, not…”

“I thought you would’ve known by now that I don’t do nice.” Newt looked at the Aurors to see if they were equally as shocked, but they all just had half-happy, half-relieved expressions on their faces; they no longer had to endure their boss’ frustration when he failed an attempt at asking Newt out. Tina even served him a wink. Reminiscing on the situation, he found his obliviousness humorous, for the Director definitely _hadn’t_ been bringing chocolates, pastries, flowers, jewellery, and other gifts to any of his other workers.

Plopping onto their king-sized bed, he picked the book up to start his reading and curiously watched as the Niffler leaped from his head to his lap. Lifting up his shirt for the creature, he watched as it resumed its relaxed position on his stomach and didn’t bring the fabric down to see if the Niffler was doing this for the warmth, but it just stayed there with its eyes closed, not even caring to notice the absence of his shirt. Fond expression in his blue eyes, he lightly scratched the top of its head before covering him with his shirt anyway, for he doubted the warmth would irritate the animal, before opening the book and beginning to read from the first page. He’d already read through this book a few times, but he couldn’t recall anything that would result in this sort of behaviour.

Time egged on, the Niffler unmoving, as he read through chapter after chapter until he got to about halfway through the volume. He was so engrossed that he hadn’t even noticed his husband had gotten home until he came into the bedroom, all frowns and looking miserable as usual after a long day of work until he spotted Newt on their bed, expression instantly softening. Newt’s scratchy “Hi, baby,” managed to put a smile on his face and he came over to lean over the bed, giving him a quick kiss that turned him pink. “How was work?” Newt asked as casually as possible as he stood back up, shifting his jacket off his shoulders. 

“Oh, it was great,” he answered as insincerely as possible. Newt scoffed.

“You like to pretend that you don’t like your job.” Before Graves could retort, he spotted the lump under his husband’s shirt and rose a dark eyebrow in confusion, pausing halfway through him untying his tie. Catching sight of his befuddlement, Newt was quick to explain. “It’s Niffler…” he lifted his shirt to prove his explanation before letting it back down. “I’m not sure what the issue is. I’m trying to figure that out,” he said, waving the front cover of the Niffler guide at him.

The older man chuckled, watching as Newt lightly caressed the animal under his shirt. “You look pregnant,” he joked. As he was halfway into the ensuite bathroom to take an after-work shower, he missed the colour draining from his husband’s face. “I’ll be in the shower, darling,” he called back before shutting the door behind him. Newt, with something popping up in his mind, shakily flipped the book back open and tore through the pages with a trembling hand, nearly ripping some of the pages from the book in his fervor, and there… on a page three quarters into the book read:

_Nifflers’ senses are impeccably powerful. They can hear the metallic clink of jewellery--one of many things the pesky creatures love to collect--from up to three miles away, and they can scent out their food double that. Around humans, Nifflers can even sense if a person is sick or pregnant. If the Niffler and a pregnant human possess a close bond, the Niffler is usually protective over their unborn child, resulting in a need to be near the person and bringing them gifts that they’d usually keep for themselves._

Feeling a bit queasy, he continued on down the page before he decided he had enough and shut the book, letting his hand drop it onto the floor next to the bed with a thud. Overwhelmed, he rose his shirt again and just watched the Niffler sleeping, thoughts frantic and anxious; him being pregnant was a strong possibility due to their… often bedroom ordeals… and even though conceiving of a child was rare of male wizards, there was still a chance. Racking his brain through the multitude of Healer spells he learned from being around the Hogwarts infirmary so often--many creatures, much like the situation that caused Percival’s confession, had injured him out of fear in his time at Hogwarts--he could recall a spell that the nurse had used on a panicked seventh year who feared she’d been knocked up by her boyfriend. 

Feeling the same way as that girl, he retrieved his wand so hurriedly he nearly dropped it, and focused himself enough to cast the spell, wand-tip pointed at his stomach underneath the Niffler. He watched as a gold light swirled around above before it began to focus in on one point, continuing to shrink until a tiny circle was present right near the Niffler. “Oh…” he whispered, looking at the gold dot indicating the size of the child growing within him as tears welled in his eyes at the realisation. Hearing the water running from within the bathroom, he knew he couldn’t call Percival back out right then and so used this to his advantage, laying his head back upon his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut to try to calm himself. He didn’t know how long he laid there, perhaps a half hour, before he heard the water turn off and the rustling of his husband climbing out of the shower and drying off. 

When Percival exited the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, he knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Newt’s contorted face as if he were in pain. “Newt? Are you okay?” He questioned, forehead wrinkled with concern as he climbed into bed beside him, forgetting his goal of dressing himself. Picking the Niffler up from his stomach and setting him on the blanket, Newt slowly sat up and faced him, eyes refusing to meet his. The creature, awoken, jumped off the bed and joined Pickett on the floor in squeezing back into the suitcase, for they both knew their Mummy’s child would be safe with its father. “Darling?” He reached out and caressed his cheek, making him look at him, blue eyes shinier than normal. 

“What would I tell you if… if I was a-actually pregnant?” He stuttered, hand clutching at his stomach on instinct. Grey eyes blinked, bewildered, at him as if not totally understanding his question at first until it sank in, and Newt watched as they widened, flashing from his face to his stomach and back again.

“You… you’re…” Wordlessly, Newt cast the spell again and they both stared at the gold dot that wasn’t any bigger than a pea. “You’re…” He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth, for the awe at the situation apparently took control of his literacy.

“Pregnant,” Newt finished for him, letting his tears fall. Before he lifted a hand to wipe them away, he was being crushed by a very delighted Percival Graves who nearly squeezed him to death as he kissed all over Newt’s face. His shock at the positive reaction must’ve been apparent because Percival stopped for a moment.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be happy?” His husband’s shameful blush was all he needed as an answer. “You idiot,” he chided before invading Newt’s mouth, and Percival only had to worry about ripping his towel off so that he could show his husband how happy he truly was.


End file.
